


Relic

by SpiralSpace



Series: Rok's Duty [3]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Gen, Violence, also some yelling, nobody dies in a hospital this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 04:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiralSpace/pseuds/SpiralSpace
Summary: "Were we born to fight and die,Sacrificed for one huge lie?Are we heroes, keeping peace?Or are we weapons,Pointed at the enemySo someone else can claim a victory?"





	1. Chapter 1

“Heh, look at this one. Voyage listing 1085a312. Smugglers usually aren’t so obvious,” Varik remarked smugly, leafing through the documentation on his desk.

Rok didn’t even look up from the communication node that he was tinkering with. “Not smugglers. They took an ancient galleon, filed off the factory marking and forged it into the register as a newer make under a lot number that hasn’t been allocated yet. Plus it’s an Earth-terminus listing. That’ll be Steel Meridian.” He’d known that the first time he’d glanced at their paperwork, months ago. They’d been back around several times since then but he’d never mentioned it. It had taken him quite a while to understand why.

“Steel Meridian?! I’ll inform Rail Control!” 

There’s a common misconception that the clone armies of the Grineer are all genetically identical. The truth is more complicated. From their conception, the Orokin had originally tailored about a dozen distinct gene-strains for their labour forces, which afterwards were tweaked for hundreds of years, and then frayed even further when the Orokin started raising entire armies from mutants found within those lines. But even in the nascent days of the later Grineer empire, it had been recognized that diversity was far more essential than it was dangerous. After all, a toolbox that contained only plasma screwdrivers was largely useless, was it not? So, those genomes were still being played with, a millennium later. Every lot of Grineer was seeded with a somewhat different source code, and each batch formed under slightly different conditions.

With Varik, however, he shared his lot designation, batch number, and incubation protocol. They were as identical as it got. The fact that the two of them ended up as the Customs-Navy and Navy-Customs liaisons of the same sector was ironic enough to justify itself as an item of small talk (which was itself remarkable, insofar as nothing justified casual chatter to a grineer).

In many ways they were nonetheless very different people.

The high-ranking marine picked up the command room’s emergency communicator. Rok felt the weight of the plasma-screwdriver in his hand. The fans of his mechanical heart whirred with anticipation as he crept closer to Varik’s turned back. With relief, he felt his soldier-grineer’s instincts surge groggily to the forefront, unshackled after cycles of sedentary desk-work. 

_Slight downwards angle, head of tool vertically aligned. Slide between the armoured plates, and the fifth and sixth rib. Apply body weight and lever toolhead up through chest cavity. Massive tearing sufficient for incapacitation even against genetically enhanced target._ Rok felt his unwitting opponent sharply take in a breath as the blow penetrated. It slid through easily, indicating that Varik was still on his original heart. Rok couldn’t help but laugh to himself. Lucky for both of them, that was.

The marine limply reached for the Brakk at his hip. Rok grabbed it first, and tossed it aside. 

“You know they only take soldiers, right?” Varik coughed smugly, and bloodily. Rok didn’t reply.

He let the body fall to the ground. Of course Varik would find a way to spoil that.

Next came the less fun part.

-

The door slid shut behind him, and he flipped the detonator. He swore he could feel the welding gel ignite, even through the thick sheet of ferrite. That was why he’d set up the demolition charges on the far side of the room; he didn’t want -them- going off for at least another hour. The station command node was designed to survive a direct assault, so unless somebody noticed his absence immediately he was pretty confident that would be soon enough to cover his tracks. Somewhat confident. At least a little confident. Rok pivoted awkwardly in Varik’s heavy suit of marine officer armour. Logically, it would probably have fit comfortably if it wasn’t for all the blood in it. The bloodstains worried him more than the bomb.

“Hey, Atam,” he said casually to the guard standing at attention beside the door. Confusion drifted briefly across the lancer’s face as he failed to puzzle out why Varik would ever be trying to start a conversation with him, but it wasn’t more than a moment before recognition replaced it. 

The sentry’s brow unfurrowed, and then immediately refurrowed with concern instead. Rok cut off that particular wave before it could crest with his most calm and diplomatic voice. “I’m going to join Steel Meridian. Want to come with?”

Atam thought for a moment, and nodded sharply.

Rok grinned.

-

“At ease, troops,” Rok said to the marines stationed on either side of the airlock. “And take the rest of the day off.”

The pair glanced at each other, shrugged and wandered off. Varik’s men. They probably knew something was up, but maybe they thought it would be best for them if they stayed out of it. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Atam unsealed the hatch, and stepped into line behind Rok.

The eyes of the crew, previously about the main deck on various errands, turned to track the two strangers. The captain ever-so casually strolled up to them. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you until departure tomorrow, officer,” she said, ‘jovially’.

Tomorrow, she said. Almost as if she’d been spending a lot of time on Earth recently. Hm. “Ah, well that I can explain. Your departure is in fact much sooner than that.”

“Are you certain? If you check my docking registration, I’m sure-“

“I am very certain. I have your papers right here, and if you give them a look you’ll find that I’m correct,” he paused, glancing at the documents, “Captain Meranis. Or would that be Captain Cressa Tal?”

Her gaze turned ice cold. From various hidden holsters and hideaways, her crew brandished their weapons. Atam gave Rok a reproachful shove to the shoulder.

He gestured placatingly. “No need for that, we’re all on the same side here,”

“Oh?” Cressa Tal asked skeptically.

“You’ve got the ship, and I’ve got the documents. I think a bit of cooperation would benefit both of us.”

“And yet we’ve been managing just fine up to this point.”

“To be blunt, I’m good but I’m not -that- much better at my job then the pencil pushers on the other rails. If you’ve been using paperwork that dodgy for months and I’m the only one who’s put two and two together, that probably means someone else has and they’re just hoping to catch a few more fish in the net. Our best bet is to repaint our serial number while we’re in transit and then scuttle this ship before they figure out what we did, and if you have me chances are you can actually get away with that.” 

Cressa Tal rolled her eyes. “And I suppose you’re just telling us this out of the goodness of your heart, right? No trouble hot on your heels, no sir.”

“I’m also here to talk about joining Steel Meridian, but it might be. There’s two more bodies on the manifest than you’ve got, now, so our absence would be its own kind of problem, but it is possible my troubles might catch up with me. Thing is, I share a genome with the guy who’s supposed to wearing this armour.” He turned to show her the slit melted through the back. “I’m already dead, if you catch my meaning. Which means that no matter how much they manage to string together, the authorization codes on here,” he waved the documentation in his hand. “Aren’t going to get revoked.” Fingers crossed, anyway. Dead people weren’t supposed to have active codes any more than defectors were, but in his experience regardless where you went in the Sol system, bureaucratic laziness was more constant than gravity.

Privately, he worried regardless.

“You’re sure doing a lot of talking for someone who’s backed up absolutely nothing. How do I know you can even do what you claim you have? Or that anything you’ve just said isn’t dehydrated sani-waste, for that matter?”

“I am the proof. If we get caught that’s curtains for me too. I wouldn’t be here if I thought it wasn’t going to work. So you don’t need to ask ‘can I trust him?’ You just need to ask ‘is he a moron?’” He shrugged. “I guess you have to decide that one for yourself.”

She seemed genuinely undecided for a long second. “You really don’t want to give me a choice, do you?” she commented tiredly. “Welcome aboard, I guess. What can we call you?”

“For now? Varik.”

“Whatever. Let’s get underway, people!”


	2. Chapter 2

Rok stared into the verdant, rustling canopy as he walked. “So… Earth, huh?”

“Tubes, what a spy question to ask! Yes, we’re on Earth.”

“I, uh,” Rok stammered.

Cressa Tal laughed. “Relax! I’m just messing with you. I’m guessing the admiralty has at least figured out what planet we’re on by now, anyway.”

“That they have,” he conceded. “What’s got you in such a good mood all of a sudden?”

“I think you’ll find that my temperament improves dramatically when I’m not listening to people try and pass me kubrodon shit in a leaky bag.”

Rok thought it was better not to respond to that. Instead, he continued to take in the scenery around him. “ _You were right, Nakak,_ ” he murmured.

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch it,” she responded.

“Oh, I was just thinking about something. First time on Earth. It’s…” he gestured at the jungle around him, “a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, nothing else quite compares.” Tal looked almost teary-eyed. “Don’t wander off,” she added, sternly. “Lotta dangerous things out there. The spacers never seem to actually get that.”

-

“You’re shorter that I expected, is that weird to say?”

They were seated now in Cressa Tal’s ‘office’. He used the term very loosely. The Steel Meridian enclave on Earth seemed to be little more than a gutted, overgrown hab complex refurbished with durable plastic furniture and a few overhead camo-tarps. Or at least the part she was willing to let him see was so. There was no wall separating him from the revolutionaries going about their camp business, just a low fence. None of them turned to check what had started their leader chuckling. It was just business as usual.

“Statistically, not weird. Everyone says that.” She winked at him. “They make me look taller on the wanted posters, I’m actually just a regular old growth-type one. I think it all traces back to that time I pinned Kela de Thaym in under a minute on the live Rathuum feed. She’s been trying to live that one down ever since.”

Rok gaped. “You’re kidding me, right? Because I would have payed anything to see that.”

Cressa’s expression was still jovial. “You’re in luck then, there are definitely at least a few people down in the barracks who have that saved somewhere.”

It was starting to sink in who he was actually talking to. Cressa Tal! Even before she’d defected, she’d been a legend. Everything a rank and file Grineer could hope to be, and then some. There had always been a movement, but Tal was the one who had turned it into a force that the Admiralty was actually worried about. Steel Meridian had started with her. And she probably didn’t think much of him at the moment.

“You’ve done a lot here in not much time,” he said. “It’s impressive.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Yeah, honestly we’re kind of in shock, nobody was expecting to still be alive at this point I think. We have the tenno to thank for a lot of it.”

Rok paled. “You work with the Tenno?!”

Cressa was unconcerned. “Well, yeah. Look, they’re not so bad once you get to know them. Sure they’re creepy as all get out, but at the end of the day they’re just kids.”

He reeled again, his mind suddenly working overtime. The Tenno were children? What did that mean? Could _she_ really have been… He shook his head, trying to clear it. “I have some questions,” he said.

“Isn’t that my line?” She asked. “Look, I know people say a lot of things about what our criteria are, and we don’t care that you’re from an enforcement background. Most of the customs people we get in here pick it up after a few battles, with some of them you can’t even tell. You’re a soldier-strain, you’ll be fine.”

“Actually, I was wondering what non-combat roles you were looking for at the moment.”

She hesitated. “We’re… mostly recruiting frontline support right now.”

“Because they keep dying, right?” he replied, his voice taking on a chill.

“No, because we can get that kind of help pretty much anywhere.” She sighed, controlling her breathing as if she had had this conversation many times before. “We’re grineer,” she said patiently. “We have powers, we can do things that other people just can’t. The least we can do is make sure we do some good with them. We have a responsibility.”

Rok took a moment to look for Atam in the waiting room. The lancer was still there, patiently tolerating the Steel Meridian member pestering him with some kind of pamphlet. “You’re right, I do have a responsibility.” He gestured towards Atam, smiling slightly. “He’s been with me for, I don't know, it must be about ten cycles at that point.” His smile soured. “But do you know what the messed up thing is? He could do my job better than I could. I’ve never met somebody so brilliant, or perceptive, or hardworking. But just because he doesn’t like to talk much, they say he’s not good for anything past grunt work and I’m his boss. And now we come here and you’re telling me that because he’s a grineer, he’s not good for anything other than dying for all the people out there! So I mean,” his voice was raising now, drawing some nervous glances from Meridian operatives passing by, “I have to ask, how far out in the black do I have to go to get somewhere where we’re allowed to just LIVE our LIVES? How far, before we’re permitted that?!”

The two stared at each other.

 

Evantually, she sighed. “I think that it’s possible you might not be the best fit here,” she said.

He slumped in his chair. “Yeah, seems like it.”

She looked at him, letting sympathy into her expression. “Look, it’s a big galaxy out there. Bigger than you’ve ever dreamed, I promise. And even if you take out the bits that the Grineer and the Corpus are currently destroying, that’s still like a fifth of the solar system. I’m sure you two will find what you’re looking for somewhere, especially if you don’t mind bumping elbows with a tenno from time to time.”

“Thanks,” he said, not untruthfully.

She looked thoughtful. “Although, before all that, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in some consultant work?”

“Hm?”

“Here, catch!” She pulled something out of a desk drawer and tossed it at him, fast. He caught it. It looked like some sort of spherical object, partially wrapped in a crumpled sheathe of metal. Or perhaps it might even be some kind of stone? Something about it was disorienting to the senses.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Orokin junk,” she said. “Completely nonfunctional relic tech. But tenno love these things for some reason. Offer them a couple and they’ll do pretty much anything for ya. Give off all kinds of exotic radiation though. What I need is a protocol for getting that thing through customs with being detected.”

He stood up. “Hey Atam!” he yelled. “Mind grabbing the proximity scanner from our things? We just started a consulting business!”

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And some of you thought this wasn't going to have a happy ending!
> 
> In my head, the works in this series straddle most of the game continuity since launch. Specifically, Forma happens not too long before the Gradivus dilemma, Plastid is around the time of Once Awake, and Relic is present day (which for archive readers means Vox Solaris). That's about fifteen (terran) years worth of time for the people involved.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed Rok's journey as much as I did. I don't think I expected to be so attached to him when I started writing Forma! It seems somehow appropriate to cap it all off with my first multi-chapter work on this site.
> 
> Edit: Hey if you liked this, maybe check out https://store.steampowered.com/app/949060/Love_Thyself__A_Horatio_Story/
> 
> I have no affiliation with this game, I just didn't realize so many people were interested in finding love and happiness inside (or outside) a clone hegemony.


End file.
